Who will win the game? One Early morning it was
dark winter. I saw my team warming up. They were sweating like a
drinking fountain. I heard my cleats going click click click click. It
was a hot day. I smelled the green grass. I tasted the beautiful
flowers. I felt that we were gonna win the game. I was running as fast
as a cheetah. My dad told me he would give me five dollars for each goal
that I made. I said, “OK.”
There was a male. He looked like he was thirteen. He was tall like a
giraffe. He was skinny. He had black hair. He was white like a bunny. He
had brown eyes. He was cool. He seemed to be saying, “I want to make a
goal.” He said, “Good luck.” Since the game was about to start, I
couldn't go to the bathroom anymore.
I saw the ref getting ready for the game. My team was ready for the
game. I heard my dad saying, “Go, Miguel.” It was getting colder. I
tasted the pizza we’d have it we won.
There was this woman. She was about thirteen years old. She was supper
skinny. She had orange hair. She was white. She had blue eyes. She was
cool. She was wearing blue shorts. She seemed to be saying, “You’re
handsome.” And I told her that I don’t like to play baseball but soccer
I saw that my team had made a goal. They were happy. I could hear my dad
saying, “Good job.” Everybody was burnt from the sun. I was nervous that
they would make a goal. I felt that we were gonna win the game. I went
across the field and made a goal.
The game was over, and we won 2-1. I was happy. Since we won, we were
happy. But there was this boy that got mad at me. He was twelve and he
was supper skinny and he had blue eyes. He had brown hair. He was ugly.
He seemed to be saying, “You’re ugly.” My dad said, “Good job. Want to
go to McDonald's?” I said, “Yes, but you own me five dollars.” He